


Michael Jones VS A Pink Thong

by coolasdicks



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M, Panty Kink, Thongs - Freeform, cross dressing, pink ones to be exact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2117760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolasdicks/pseuds/coolasdicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: </p><p>“Can I request some ah ot6 based on an ib podcast episode where Michael talked about how comfy women’s clothes are Like basically Michael loves the feel of fem clothes but is scared of what the others would think so he tries to hide it”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Michael Jones VS A Pink Thong

**Author's Note:**

> Because I’m a schmuck and take forever to fill prompts, I’ve filled a bunch of small ones with not too many words and will put them out within days of each other so ayy. This is fluffy as hell by the way, nothing like my normal stuff. Hope you enjoy!

Michael Jones didn’t keep many secrets.

He felt so comfortable with his loved ones and friends, so completely at ease in his own skin, that he often believed there was no need to. It had never been an issue in his household to enjoy yourself. If Michael wanted to watch My Little Pony, he’d fucking watch My Little Pony. On the living room TV, if he felt like it, because fuck his brothers. If the talking horses made him feel good, he was gonna feel good guilt-free.

But under his clothes, Michael hid the one guilty pleasure that he didn’twant exposed, even to his boyfriends.

The femininity of it wasn’t what kept his mouth tightly closed. Fuck what society implies, girls are _awesome_. Michael talked a lot of shit for someone who was practically kept on a continent-length leash owned by his best friend. Lindsay was a prime example of _fuck the patriarchy_ and Michael couldn’t agree with her more, despite the wayward words that sometimes flew from his mouth in a video. When surrounded by his friends – particularly Gavin, who had a tendency to blurt out sexist remarks without thinking – Michael joked along.

That was not to say that Michael agreed. How could he, when the words were leaving his mouth while he was wearing a pair of pink, satin Victoria’s Secret undies under his clothes?

Michael would give his bottom dollar to change society, if just for his selfish desire to wear whatever the fuck he wanted in public. Occasionally he said fuck it and just wore one of Lindsay’s girly-fit shirts regardless, but he couldn’t get away with the girly-fit _pants_.

Or the dresses.

 _Fuck,_ Michael would give an arm and a leg to wear a dress, just once – or ten more times – to work. The thought of wearing his short, knee-high blue sundress while sitting in his desk chair and playing video games made his stomach feel hot and tingly, especially when he thought of the six others in the room sitting next to him and acting like it was normal.

Now there lay the problem. He didn’t lie by any means, but Michael hadn’t known how to broach the subject two months into the relationship, and ten months later he was still clueless. The guideline for a polyamorous relationship with six men wasn’t exactly written out for them, so no one really knew when tentative dating was supposed to be boyfriends and when boyfriends was supposed to turn into living together. For now, they all lived separately. Michael lived in a one-bedroom apartment close to the office, and Ryan was one apartment building away.

At his house, Michael kept a trash bag of precariously folded clothes in his closet. Being in a relationship with multiple people generally meant that he was almost always with company, and more than half of the time they gathered for a relaxing night, they were at Geoff’s abode. Sometimes they were at Michael’s, but Michael was always more relaxed when they were at Geoff’s, because that meant he didn’t run the risk of someone stumbling along his bag of _unmentionables_.

Gavin had already discovered his sex toy collection, for fuck’s sake.

The only person who knew anything, aside from Linds, was Ray, who suspected that Michael had a fetish for stockings. That had been a long story. Ray usually didn’t come over unannounced, but the one time he did, Michael had been prancing around the house wearing nothing but a pair of skintight black stockings and a black choker.

At least he hadn’t been caught jerking off on the couch while wearing them. In other words, at least Ray hadn’t barged in about ten minutes earlier.

Dammit, it wasn’t a fetish. Which probably was the reason Michael was so reluctant to tell them his little secret. It was a part of himself he wasn’t quite as comfortable with, but he was working up to it, okay? The girl shirts were a start.

A start that Lindsay was thrilled to snowball, which was how Michael found himself wearing a _thong_ to the office early Monday morning.

He hadn’t been too fond of the lacy, pink underwear at first, but then he’d caught sight of himself in the mirror when he tried them on. And _damn_. It had been a good choice. Not to toot his own horn, but it flattered his milky complexion even more than the black hiphuggers did, and the thin pink stripe pulling taut against his goods would have been _such_ a turn on for one of his boys.

Not for the first time, Michael had felt the strong, sudden urge to just fucking mention it over dinner one night, while all of them were at a bar, or maybe while they were centered around a six person match of Halo. But if he was honest with himself, he knew they’d laugh at him, and he didn’t want to hear his fears confirmed.

It definitely didn’t stop Michael Jones from wearing sexy panties to work, however.

The move to the studio office provided them with new desk chairs that were a different build than the last, so Michael’s thong, which was visible above his jeans, wasn’t on display. But there _was_ a slight peek of pink on the horizon, which gave Michael a thrill he hadn’t expected to become addicted to so thoroughly, but he knew nothing would come of it. He didn’t expect Gavin or Ray to be staring intently at his ass, because while they might’ve been horndogs, they weren’t thrilled with being outed at work. In the office, they kept things moderately ungay. Aside from the occasional after-hours blowjob.

Those didn’t count.

(And Michael may’ve been responsible for… well, all of them, one way or another.)

But otherwise, completely professional – at least in their _loose_ term of the word. Rooster Teeth had always been a rather out-there definition of ‘professional employment’, and Michael really didn’t think he was the _only_ male ever to wear girl panties. It wasn’t that weird.

Except it totally felt weird and a little uncomfortable as he sat in his desk chair constantly pulling at an underwear wedgie that was manufactured to be there. There was no fixing a thong, he was quickly learning, because damn – that fucker rode up whenever it damn well felt like it.

He nearly rolled out of his skin and left the building when Gavin snickered at him and commented on his discomfort.

“Got something in your pants, Michael?” Gavin had practically purred at him. Michael cut him a side glare before forcing a grin onto his lips.

“Just a ginormous penis,” he replied. It wasn’t his smoothest comeback, but it got Gavin off his back with just a generous eye roll.

For some reason, the small exchange unsettled him the rest of the day. He felt hot and twitchy in his own skin, strangely sick to his stomach at the thought of himself. After a few hours of entertaining the idea to run to the bathroom to rip off the panties and go commando, he came to the conclusion that he was just feeling insecure about his odd habit. Michael forced himself to wear the panties the entire day, even during the surprise live-action VS Geoff sprung on them. He barely left his chair.

\---

Geoff didn’t get a lot of hate; he was a generally likeable guy and his frank attitude didn’t leave a lot for the audience to feed on. The same couldn’t be said for the other Hunters, though Geoff had known they had thick skin when he hired them.

However, despite the copious amounts of positive comments praising Geoff, the tattooed man didn’t often take the time to read them. At least, not how the others did. Michael and Gavin both tended to scroll the latest reviews on their videos in between filming, sometimes reading them to one another for shits and giggles. Reddit was an easier source of valuable criticism, but even that was pointless sometimes. Geoff didn’t care to read strangers’ opinions on him as a person. He wanted Let’s Play suggestions, tips, and friendly advice – not shit about his laugh curing cancer.

Not to say it wasn’t flattering.

But if there was something particular that caught Gav’s attention, Geoff would be the one the Brit would show, which was what Gavin did late Thursday night when Geoff was lazily browsing the cable channels.

Though Gavin’s very red face and flustered disposition was kind of scaring him.

Geoff waited with ill-disguised curiosity. It was rare that Gavin was genuinely embarrassed, especially by something as silly as this. But Gavin was certainly agitated by something on the screen of the laptop he was currently supporting with one knee. He’d been staring at Geoff with something like awkward hesitation ever since gingerly sitting down next to him on the living room sofa.

 _What the hell is on that laptop screen_ , Geoff wondered.

But the best approach to unraveling Gavin’s mind was to wait for Gavin himself to hand you a thread.

Gavin spoke suddenly, right when Geoff’s show came back from a commercial break. “Someone pointed something out in the comments and now it’s everywhere.”

Geoff frowned, thoughts instantly going to the incident where Gavin’s junk had been visible up a pant’s leg in a Slow Mo video. It hadn’t been caught in editing and millions of hits later, some fucker pointed it out and suddenly that was all anyone could see. “Was it something bad?”

Gavin hesitated and, surprising Geoff, giggled slightly. “He’s going to think so. I certainly don’t think it’s bad. The actual thing. The comments already have gone downhill, there’s no saving them.”

Geoff looked at him fully then, thoroughly confused. “Who are you talking about?”

Instead of answering, Gavin turned his laptop to face Geoff, the comments section of their latest VS video pulled up on screen. Geoff squinted at the words, scanning them quickly before feeling his mouth fall open. Eyes flashing up to meet Gavin’s now mischievous gaze, the Brit wordlessly scrolled up to the part in the video that _everyone_ was talking about and let the video play for a few seconds.

 _Oh, dear lord_.

Geoff swallowed. The words blurted out of his mouth before he could catch them. “How the fuck do we handle this?”

Confused, Gavin placed the laptop on the coffee table. His lips were drawn down. “What’s there to handle? Everyone’s had an embarrassing slip on camera before,” Gav pointed out, cocking an eyebrow as if to challenge Geoff to bring up the Slow Mo-slip.

Geoff didn’t. “He’s probably seen it by now,” he agreed, grinning slightly. “No wonder he’s been hiding out at Jack’s house all day. Jack never checks comments.”

“That and Jack is making quesadillas tonight,” Gavin added before nodding. “We should absolutely bring this up. At work, maybe. Oh – on camera, as well, this’ll be good revenge for all the smeg-pot stories he keeps retelling on the podcast.”

Geoff grinned. It was true that some rather _personal_ stories were sometimes shared on live podcasts.

But this wasn’t quite the best way to reap revenge.

“Maybe not on camera, but I think it’s something we should definitely talk about,” he agreed democratically. “I’m not going to lie. It _kinda_ irks me that he didn’t tell us. I’m also a little irked that we somehow didn’t notice.”

Gavin stretched back into a more comfortable spot on the couch, setting his laptop off to the side. The line of his body was oddly relaxed, a small smirk at the corner of his mouth. He was enjoying this far more than Geoff would have expected.

Hmm.

 _Ooh_.

Geoff snorted before dissolving into snickers. Gavin watched him with a cautious smile, but he could tell Geoff wasn’t laughing with him. “What?”

“I won’t call it a cross-dressing kink, but you totally have a panty kink.”

Gavin’s face went slightly red, a shy smile enveloping his suspicious expression. “Cheeky habit. I’m not complaining.”

Geoff could agree. Geoff could _definitely_ agree. His stomach heated slightly just remembering the four seconds of incriminating video. And then his mind wandered slightly, only for a few moments – but it was enough time for his brain to drag up images of Michael Jones in a slim-fit negligee, or maybe a short, mid-thigh dress, his creamy, white legs on display. Geoff could feel the ghost of heat on his palms as he pictured hiking up the dress while pressing Michael into the wall, running his hands up smooth thighs to cup a lace-covered ass.

Geoff cleared his throat and spoke in a slightly hoarse voice. “Yeah, I’m not complaining either.”

\---

The moment Michael opened the door to Gavin and Geoff’s stupid grin, he knew the endgame had started.

He met Gavin’s eyes first and instantly regretted it. Mischief and fucking _malice_ were swimming in those hazel eyes, which, upon meeting Michael’s startled gaze, made a show of slowly trekking down the length of Michael’s body. He lingered around Michael’s crotch. Then he looked back up at Michael and a smirk curled the tips of his smile.

 _Fuck_.

And then Michael looked in Geoff’s eyes and – nope, yeah, that was worse. It confirmed his worst fear.

They’d seen the comments.

_Double fuck._

“Ah –” Michael started, pulling the door shut a few inches as if that would ward them off. “I thought you two were staying over at your house tonight.”

“We wanted to see our boys,” Gavin said, grin widening. He peered pointedly over Michael’s shoulder. “Any reason you’re guarding the door?”

Michael swallowed and pushed open the door harder than necessary. It bounced off the wall. “Come on before the fucking bugs get in.”

Jack was suspiciously unsurprised at the sudden appearance of Geoff and Gavin. He smiled and pecked Geoff on the lips in greeting, continuing to drizzle cheese over two sizzling quesadillas. “Hey, guys. You having dinner or did you eat already?”

“We’re good, we ate,” Geoff assured him, sliding into a seat. “They,” he said, pointing to the pan, “smell good.” The unspoken _but they could smell better if_ I _was making them_ made Michael snort. Jack rolled his eyes.

“Thanks,” he said, only slightly sarcastic. And then, for some strange, fucking ‘ _random_ ’ reason, his eyes darted to Michael before looking guiltily back at the food he was preparing.

 _Jack, you fucking traitor. I knew it was weird for your mom to be calling you in the middle of Walking Dead_.

Michael grit his teeth, feeling Geoff and Gavin’s lewd stare, but a sudden comfort dawned on him. The ridiculous image of his pants being forcibly yanked down as evidence crossed his mind, but before coming to Jack’s house, Michael thankfully had the foresight to stop by his house and change into a ratty pair of boxers. Besides, Gavin and Geoff wouldn’t _actually_ do that… probably.

“Do you want to start up a movie, or…?” Jack said into the awkward silence, unloading two quesadillas onto Michael’s plate. Geoff and Gavin were seriously lacking on their half of the conversation, and it was completely because they were too busy harassing Michael with their eyes.

“Sure!” Geoff crowed brightly.

“Did you have anything in mind?” Jack asked when Geoff offered nothing more.

Michael closed his eyes and forced out a calm breath when a devious smile settled across Geoff’s face. “Well,” the tattooed man started with the air of someone just beginning a long lecture. “Gav and I were feelin’ a bit… racy tonight. _Pink_ Flamingos, maybe?”

Michael’s face flushed, but he stoutly ignored the obscure jib, narrowing his eyes at Geoff and shoveling cheese into his mouth to stop himself from retorting.

“Eh,” Gavin shrugged. He was feigning nonchalance, but there was a sparkle in his eye. “I was thinking one of the original _Pink_ Panthers?”

 _Real creative_ , Michael thought, rolling his eyes.

“Pretty in _Pink_?” Geoff suggested hopefully. Michael choked on his mouthful of food.

“That was a good one, Geoff,” Gavin praised, causing Geoff to finally break character and giggle. His ears were slightly red.

“What the hell –” Jack shook his head, confused.

Ignoring his heated cheeks, Michael looked between Geoff and Jack. “I don’t think they told you why they’re actually here,” Michael said glumly, taking a guess at what had transpired during the phone call.

“Geoff said he wanted to talk about the most recent VS we put out,” Jack said, glancing at the tattooed man.

“Yeah, yeah, of course he does,” Michael muttered, appetite shriveling up. He pushed away his plate and crossed his arms, turning his face away from the penetrating gazes of both Geoff and Gavin.

“Why what –?” Jack cut himself off, a thought occurring to him. Michael guessed that Jack could see the genuine embarrassment currently trying to swallow him whole. “Er… what happened?”

Michael would have been happy to let them sit in silence for the entire night, but the pros and cons of letting fucking _Gavin_ explain the situation were heavily stacked in one particular column. He sighed.

“I, uh, was…” Michael faded. He swallowed his pride and tried again. “Some stupid slip on camera during VS – wasn’t caught in editing. And now it’s all over the comment section.”

“What slip?” Jack said, and now he was brimming with concern. He looked to be holding himself back from reaching across the counter to grab Michael’s hand. “What’s wrong?”

 _Oh my god, this is embarrassing_. “My pants just, uh, rode a bit far down.”

Geoff snorted.

“Didn’t you pants yourself for photo-bombing pictures at RTX last year?” Jack asked, clearly baffled at why this would raise such a fuss.

“He was wearing boxers then,” Gavin said before Michael could reply.

Jack’s eyebrows jumped towards his hairline. “Were you not wearing underwear?”

_Jesus Christ._

“No, well, I was,” Michael coughed. He longed for the presence of Ray, who would have at least been sympathetic. Ryan, too, would have been on his side. Definitely not downright _leering_ at him as if wishing to pin him up on the wall like a dartboard. “I sat in the chair for the most part of the video but th-thongs fucking show above the waistband and fucking Geoff didn’t mention filming VS today so I didn’t think...”

It would’ve been funny to watch Jack’s expression drop, face draining pale before promptly flushing beet red, but Michael was internally strangling himself for stuttering over the word ‘thong’. _You sack of shit, don’t be a pussy. They’re clearly not grossed out or anything, so just own up to it_.

Jack barely managed to choke out, “You were wearing –?” before he was readjusting where he sat in his seat, face scarlet. His eyes drifted down to Michael’s groin, despite the table lying between them.

“What color?”

It was Michael’s turn to drop expression. The question had been completely out of the blue. “What color?”

Jack looked shameful to even be saying the word, but still –

“The thong, what color was the thong?”

Michael cut Geoff and Gavin a sharp glare. “Pink,” he ground out.

If possible, Jack’s cheeks reddened further. He looked thoughtful about Michael’s answer, gaze still sticking to Michael’s face as if he had to consciously keep it there. “When did this joke start up?”

A joke. Of course that would be Jack’s first assumption. It made sense, but it didn’t hurt any less. Michael’s heart sank to rest against his colon. He swallowed against a lump in his throat.

He wouldn’t have answered anyway, but the doorbell rang a moment later.

Jack visibly startled before nodding to himself. “I told you that Ray and Ryan were coming over tonight,” he reminded Michael, who nearly slammed his head against the table. He’d forgotten. His audience was growing.

 Michael didn’t look at Gavin or Geoff as he stood up. They were giving Michael an odd sense of betrayal that he was growing to hate, especially when it resulted in humiliation like this. He had done nothing wrong, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt bubbling up in his chest.

“Hi, Jack,” Ray hailed warmly, reaching to peck Jack on the fuzzy cheek before whisking by to snag a bite of his dinner. “Mm, just as good as it smelled. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Ryan picked me up before I had time to finish my Kid Cuisine.”

Jack’s face twisted up in disgust. He was probably picturing the congealed, chocolate-flavored hair gel they called pudding that came with most meals. “If you wanted some, you could just ask –”

“Nah,” Ray said before plopping into a seat next to Michael. He grinned crookedly at the redhead in hello, and Michael knew that Ray had yet to catch wind of the growing disaster. “Michael might be willing to share with me.” Ray elbowed Michael invitingly.

Michael blinked owlishly and pushed his plate over to him. Ray eyeballed his lack of protest but dug into his half-eaten food.

Ryan greeted Jack with a much slower kiss. Michael heard Geoff snort before the tattooed man was saying, “What, trying to lick the remnants of dinner from his mouth?”

Ryan pulled back with a grimace. Gavin was gagging. Ray didn’t flinch as he stuffed another bite down his throat.

“Thanks, Geoff,” Ryan rolled his eyes. “The answer to that is a strong no.”

“He’s just jealous that he doesn’t get that sort of hello,” Jack said.

“It’s probably because he makes fun of them before they get the chance,” Ray nodded. He smiled sweetly at Geoff’s annoyed look and changed the topic. “We’re staying in tonight, right? Want to watch a movie?”

Geoff and Gavin looked at each other and similarly evil grins broke out across their faces.

 _I have to stop those fuckers before they gain too much steam_.

Michael groaned and buried his face in his hands. He decided just to let it all out, which resulted in… “I know you and Ryan just got here, but you should probably know that Gavin and Geoff are being complete cunts and are trying to make fun of me for wearing girl underwear during work today, which was totally a fluke, I just – Lindsay – she… it was her fault.”

To say that everyone looked shocked would be an understatement. His outburst was met with a long stretch of awkward silence. Michael hid behind his fingers and waited for someone to laugh.

“You were wearing Lindsay’s panties?” Ryan finally asked in an utterly baffled voice.

“No!” Michael immediately defended, pulling his hands away from his red cheeks. He may have a weird tendency to voluntarily give himself a wedgie with women’s underwear, but he didn’t fucking share bottoms with his best girl friend.

But his denial only caused Ryan’s inquisitive eyebrow to climb further up his forehead. “So whose were they?” But the way he asked it… he knew whose they were.

Ray saved him from answering by bursting into laughter. Gavin broke slightly and joined in with muffled giggles, and Geoff was snorting into his glass of previously poured whiskey, but everyone else remained confused or slightly flustered.

“That’s – I knew you had a fucking stocking fetish!” Ray crowed, slapping a hand on the counter.

Michael glared at him. “It’s not a fetish,” he said angrily.

“So what the hell were you doing while sitting on the couch with your lacy legs spread –”

“I was watching TV!” Michael exclaimed before Ray could go further. His face was bright red again.

“While wearing nothing but fishnets!” Ray cackled, the jackass. Michael slugged him roughly in the arm, not holding his strength back, and Ray immediately clutched at his arm. “Ow – no need to go punching guys, Michael, it’s okay. We don’t kink-shame.” Ray’s eyes slid over everyone in the room. “Obviously.”

“It’s not a fucking kink!” Michael said vehemently. “It’s not like Ryan’s kinky bondage thing or Geoff’s weird touch thing –”

“Hey,” Geoff warned sharply, the grin falling off his face. Ryan looked equally as discomforted.

 _Don’t be an asshole, Michael_. He averted his eyes. “It’s not a kink thing,” he reiterated.

Apparently somewhere in the conversation, Geoff had decided to take him seriously for the first time all day. Sliding off his chair, he walked to stand next to Michael, gently turning the younger to look him in the eye. They were indeed much more somber than they’d been when he’d been cracking jokes. Geoff gripped both of Michael’s shoulders and held him tight.

“Do you… feel uncomfortable in your body?”

Michael blinked. A flush of heat coursed through his chest. “What? No! No, of course not, I’m fine with myself. I just… like different clothes sometimes.”

Geoff’s eyes seemed to melt in relief, hands loosening and sliding down to rub the back of Michael’s arms. “Why didn’t you say anything? We’ve been dating for months and none of us had a clue.”

“I did,” Ray interjected quickly.

“None of us had a clue,” Geoff reaffirmed, rolling his eyes in Ray’s direction. “A stocking fetish is nothing like cross dressing.”

“Cross dressing,” Michael repeated blankly. The phrase rang a distant bell, but he couldn’t place it.

“Just wearing the opposite gender’s clothes,” Geoff explained. He shrugged, and Michael could tell Geoff was forcing himself to be overly offhand. Though he appreciated it, Michael knew it was a bit of a surprise to find out that one of your six boyfriends had been hiding a secret like this for ten months.

“Oh,” Michael said, swallowing. “Yeah. Well, I like that.”

It was hard to fake that level of uncaring, but it seemed to relax some of the tension still in the room.

Ray grinned. “Wait, so what happened? How was it Lindsay’s fault?”

“Her fault in the long-run,” Michael said, though he felt no solid anger towards her. In fact, she had continually helped Michael feel more comfortable in his body and break out of his shell. He couldn’t thank her enough. “She took me shopping in Victoria’s Secret.”

A suspicious expression of _delight_ crossed Geoff’s face. Gavin’s eyelids fell half-hooded.

“Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking,” Michael told the two of them, a curious heat engulfing his gut. His knees felt a little weak.

“So…” Geoff said, with the clear intent to finish his thought in an action when he hooked two fingers through Michael’s belt loops and tugged him out of his chair to press flush against his chest. “Thong, right?”

Michael’s snort escaped him unbidden. Geoff’s oh-so- _seductive_ gaze turned annoyed. “No, I went home and changed,” Michael told him with a swift pat to the cheek. “I read those comments. I didn’t want to be caught red-handed and laughed at, thanks.”

Geoff’s annoyed expression shifted to something akin to offense. “Laughed at?”

“Geoff, you read those comments, too. Like, sixty percent of them were saying they’ve ‘lost respect for me’ or something –”

“Oh no, all those twelve year olds who will no longer fanboy over you,” Geoff said sarcastically. “Whatever will you do without them?”

“I never said I was bothered by it,” Michael pointed out lightly. “I’m saying that it’s not seen as all that respectable.”

Geoff reached a hand up to ruffle Michael’s hair. “Shut up, Michael,” he said firmly. “You know as well as I do that it’s not that big of a deal. I mean – it’s hot. Don’t get me wrong, it’s definitely hot. But we wouldn’t laugh at you with any ill intent.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest at the admission. Grinning weakly up at Geoff, Michael breathed out a shaky, “Okay,” before gently pulling the Gent into a hug.

“So… is it _just_ underwear?” Ray piped up a few moments later, eyes bright.

Michael turned and spoke into Geoff’s chest, thankful for the hiding place. “No.”

Geoff’s chest rumbled with a snicker, and something else.

Gavin suddenly gasped, dramatic and wild. Michael and Geoff jerked away from each other in surprise, looking at Gavin worriedly.

But Gavin was gaping and slightly pink in the cheeks. “That explains the girly shirts I kept finding in the laundry!” His face flushed completely red. He shook a finger at Michael. “Damn you! I accused Barbara of switching mine and her shirts for _months!_ ”


End file.
